Odds & Sods 2024

I wasn't 100% sure when I said Wren. Didn't have the line above the eye ...

Some more lovely captures there Mr Kes

Beautiful set of photos Mr K,   hard to choose a favourite amongst those beauties, thanks for sharing

Of Dipper close ups, giant voles and strenuous detours.

I had been keeping this walk in reserve since the day we rolled into TIdeswell. Long range weather forecasts predicted a damp close to our hols a week later. I decided a shortish (7 mile) circular walk from our lodgings would be best. If the day of the walk turned out dry and clear, all the better. If the day turned out wet and manky, I'd far rather return to our lodgings and fall into a nice cold drink and hot bath, rather than face a soggy drive in a misted up car. Another advantage of the walk (a mirror of the five dales walk i.e. on the west side of Tideswell) was that most of it was under the cover of trees.

It was manky.

Fine drizzle, blown horizontal by force 3/4 winds, gusting 4/5, obscuring spectacles in a flash. Hmmm. We weren't going to stay in. We'd get cabin fever; especially after the 24 hour downpour the day before.

Happy of soul, we gamboled from our abode, down water riven paths.

Whoops, wrong saga.

We exited Tideswell along Richard lane. This corvid, taking shelter on a wall under the shade of trees, summed up the day.

I was about ten feet from the creature. It didn't budge, but looked at us balefully, suggesting that we would get what's coming to us if we didn't shove off.

We had a damp progress, pass the lovely sewage works and on into Tideswell dale reserve, where we met this marvelous chap or chapess.

Shielded by high, steep valley walls, we made our way through Tideswell dale, then Ravestor to Litton mill and Monsal cottage.

I spotted this rather curious business. Brought tears to my eyes, and clamping of legs. An odd, out of the way location for such an establishment.

We crosse a bridge, opposite Monsal cottage, over the Wye and walked up a steep slope to the Monsal trail - an old railway line converted to a path.

I've always wanted to walk along such a path. Boy was it boring. Flat, straight and hemmed in left and right by trees and vertical cliffs. Couldn't even see the Wye crashing its way in full spate at the bottom of the valley.

We did see some 'Life in the ravines' personnel as they set about replanting Ash trees, along with other species to have a diverse ecology.

With considerable relief, we made it to Millers dale (boring walk), crossed the Wye, and negotiated our way up to the main road. We partook of lunch, in the lee of the steep hill, on a small rocky outcrop, behind a small church.

As we munched I stared at the weather. Drizzle, fine to slightly heavy, was being blown in a stiff wind from West or West northwest. If we kept to the walk and took the Limestone way, we would feel the full force of this 'orrid weather as it blasted into us from our left, sometimes veering right into our face.

I made an executive decision, and put it to the board. She passed the resolution.

We took a detour along Monk's dale, protected from wind and rain by steep, high valley walls and plenty of tree cover.

What a delightful valley.

Here's the sturdy bridge we used to cross the stream running down Monk's dale.

Looking upstream, was a very pleasant looking walk.

There was even fruit laid on for us, though not very ripe, I would say.

It wasn't long before we spotted this Mandarin drake.

Who had a girlfriend.

They headed upstream to get away from us. Unfortunately, we were also headed upstream as that was the route of our walk. I managed quite a few photos.

They swam upstream at the same pace as we walked. Having been bereft of photo opportunities, I clicked away, despite only having my medium lens.

The R7 and Sigma lens spent most of the walk protected in their waterproof case. A supermarket plastic bag. It worked.

They eventually turned left on a 'tributary', and we walked on for a bit before coming across a Mallard duck and six ducklings. I had to photograph them, apropos lack of photo opportunities.

Unlike Mandarin ducklings, which relished charging up fast flowing rivers, Mallard struggled in relatively benign flow.

They, of course, travelled upstream to get away from us. We followed at normal walking pace with me clicking away. I'll spare you loads of images of Mallards.

They eventually reached a sort of mini weir/dam, which had a larger expanse of water behind it. As I crashed along the path toward it, something small and brown, took off, and flew downstream with a noisy whirr of wings.

A Dipper!

We had loads of time, we were protected from wind and rain. We turned round and headed downstream, stalking the bird. Only I didn't realise they would sit on rocks, right up against a stream's bank.

I stepped, carefully and quietly around a tree, looking in the middle of the stream, and spooked the Dipper who was right up against my bank. It took off upstream.

We dutifully followed, whereupon I spotted it on a rock, in the middle of the stream Normal stalking procedure applied. Take long range photos first. Crouch down and creep ever so slowly toward bird. Stop, take more photos. Repeat creeping, using any available vegetation as cover.

I swear I got within about 15 feet of it.

I snapped merrily away.

Most of the photos came out with slight loss of detail. The valley was dark, the day was very dull and overcast, and I was half crouched behind a sapling hazel. It is murder on the thighs attempting to remain lock steady while aiming a camera, while in a half crouch.

The Memsahib, who had hung back a bit, joined me. Unfortunately, as I tried to get a more steady shooting platform by putting the camera onto my monopod, the Dipper had enough of us and flew upstream.

We we elated! Fancy that. A reserved walk. A decision to take a detour. Then getting close, very close to a dipper.

Again, I must say, this was no raging torrent of a stream we walked up, despite the 24 hours of torrential rain we received the day before on top of already saturated ground. The dipper was in a fairly gentle running stream.

We continued upstream, spotting the Dipper flying ahead of us, but never got close to it.

What could be nicer. Protected by valley walls and trees. Spotting Dippers and Mandarin ducks. A pleasant walk ahead of us. What could go wrong?

The nice path we followed suddenly disappeared and became elemental nature. A dale in the raw, as it was before humans crossed the land bridge from what would become Europe, and started clearing the land.

This is an example of the path. It is there, just to the left of the dry stone wall. Sometimes only about a foot or so wide, it is. Sometimes with a vertical drop of 15-20 feet along its edge. A path of rocks and boulders, haphazardly piled on top of each other. They were smooth. They were jumbled, easy to catch a boot in them and sprain an ankle. They were lethal in the drizzle and wet conditions of the dale.

The Memsaab was not happy.

Then, to make it more fun, we had these to contend with. Mountain rescue would have a nightmare of a time extracting us from Monk's dale if one of us got injured. I'm not even sure they could use their one wheeled stretcher.

The old girl progressed slowly and carefully. I didn't actually bound along either.

It was here that Gandalf's staff, that multifaceted monopod, came into its own. Going uphill on rocks such as these is relatively easy - though great care is still needed. Going down is a different matter. The procedure that worked for us, is that I'd be a couple of steps in front of her. I'd then turn round and plant Gandlf's staff firmly on the ground, then hold it rock steady, vertically. The old girl then had both her walking stick and post to hold onto. It worked a treat.

 More joy.

And this naughty boy.

It took us roughly an hour and a half to cover a mile or so of this terrain.

We finally reached a wall, which marked the end of the dale. This is the walk ahead of us. A nice, flat path, which broadened out.

Turning around, this is a gentler version what we had negotiated. Good fun, though.

Sadly, photographic opportunities were zero. Fair amount of bird song around us, but impossible to see due to the dense foliage, plus we were concentrating on our footing.

My strategy of walking up Monk's dale paid off. We turned right at a road to head back to Tideswell. The wind and rain on our backs; not directly in our face or to our left had we traversed Limestone way.

As for the views we might have got along Limestone way. Well, says it all really. And this is when the drizzle had slackened off a bit.

I was bit frustrated as we walked along the road to Tideswell. I could hear Curlews in a field to our left. Quite close as well, just not visible. Sigh.

A welcome cold drink and hot bath was had when we collapsed into our lodgings.

And thus endeth our saga. A wonderful, and sometimes challenging, vista of landscapes, scenery and wildlife. Definitely worth a visit during April and May, possibly June as well, to see loads, and loads of Mandarin ducks.

Although I didn't manage to photograph any Curlews in the Peak District, I did come across this Whimbrel from a couple of years back as I was trying to free up disk space on my laptop. A Curlew look alike.

A long range effort with my Canon 80D/Sigma 150-600mm lens. I think I had a tree to support me while taking this photo.

Angus, that is a lovely in-flight picture. Nicely captured. 

Weather hasn't been entirely condusive to bird watching with gusty winds and cloudy sky at Minsmere today but did manage to photograph an obliging Hobby when it perched a little way out from the Bittern Hide,    

Lovely capture aitch, not a very common sighting!

Lovely photo